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Monthly Archives: February 2013

Popular culture. I don’t know much about it. Like the ebonic declaration: “S‘your world…I’m just livin in it“...I don’t participate much. It came upon a midnight clear, that I just walked away from it all. Television, newspapers, lines at movie houses and yes, even popcorn. Not really a conscious decision on my part. Other things distracted me. Every now and then I kinda make my own entertainment from your world by feeling the rush of things go by in their short-lived currency. But I’m not missing much watching the blur alone and not the few recognizable items in the whirlwind, I have reckoned. A few things stand still. Those are the objects of my desire. Those things that withstand the wind‘s blow. Shakespeare, the jaw-freezing perspective of the night sky and an animal’s gaze at me. Good whiskey and a book…that’s about as far as I allow myself to go nowadays into introspection. But I’m not mad or mad. Or at least I don’t feel either of these things. And I don’t participate anyway. So it’s tough to get a rise from me, one way or another. I think that more people should be like me in that respect…but I would, wouldn’t I?I have recently decided to expand my horizons on this site.

Judaism-110Me- 4

That’s the score after 5 or so years of my finger-pointing and raving. The game is far from over…but the shot-clock is running down and I’m getting fewer and fewer open-looks. Their zone defense is killing me; the bench is anxious to get out here and help.

The politically correct don’t listen, or read. The aware…well, they are already aware. So I decided to walk out in the yard this evening and look at the stars all alone. I have invited a few friends to be alone with me and they have accepted. I will be publishing their aloneness here regularly now. You can watch the stars with us or refrain and be worse off for your decision. Or you can contribute…let me know. It’s up to you. It’s win or go home time.

Many will not want to hear what else comes from a mind that has been so focused on one subject with which they agree. I hope some will fall for the old salesman’s trick of ‘selling yourself first’ that I am trying to utilize now. If you like my sports jacket and I say that I am also a fan of your favorite team…well, then maybe I can sell you this car? Maybe not.Maybe you are smarter than that…maybe you aren’t wise enough to recognize a good deal on a cream-puff of a one-owner, low-mileageride to a real destination. I dunno. I can’t figure you guys out.They say that Roy Orbison quit singing at the height of his career and went back to selling cars. After his voice made thousands upon thousands of babies in the back seats of those used cars, he decided to go back to what he knew. I can understand that.You guys seem to jump in and out of the whirlwind so deftly…“I found this spoon!“, you say. Then back into the circular mayhem you go…looking…for something else. A used car perhaps. A destination.Either way you lose. It will throw you out, y’know. That wind. No matter who is generating it…tribal or otherwise…it doesn’t really go anywhere. Just around. And we here can offer you the breeze in your hair and travel in a straight line, as warned against by our own electronic navigator. We will visit ‘unauthorized areas’ constantly. Roll up your windows and slide your hands over to your weapons. Win or go home. These areas are off the screen.

So let me go to my manager with your offer. I’m sure we can work something out that will fit your budget. The payments will come often but they will be affordable. Hang on.

In recent years I’ve noticed things definitely aren’t as they seem. Maybe it’s age. Personally, I prefer to think it’s because I’m more perceptive than I once was. The subtle things the Universe throws at you to see if you’re truly paying attention… you know, hints of déjà vu, guideposts are what I’ve come to call them. But I’ve also learned you don’t talk about such things. Keep it to yourself. But you can tell when someone of like mind comes along, they know too… It’s an unspoken thing. But they too are patient. They’re in no hurry to make things happen. They too are enjoying the ride.

Sadly, too many people are immersed in racing to the finish line that they don’t realize there isn’t one. Chasing a dream that they can’t even describe. They know it’s out there somewhere, say they’ll know it when they see it, but yet many never reach it. They either die or lose sight and give up. Either way, that sucks. What a waste.

I recently acquired the title of Bitch. OK. Simply because I don’t play the game anymore. I’ve realized there’s more to this Magnificent Ride we’re on than those I’ve known will admit. They, like everyone else, are too busy chasing the invisible, inevitable void. I’ve no time to chase a phantom.

I prefer the term Accidental Survivor… To begin with, I started this journey by oversleeping… missed the bus. But when I did wake, I took my time gathering all my stuff to prepare for the journey.

I often fancied myself Mitchell’s Black Crow swooping down for something shiny … repeatedly. My dive was beautiful. My wings strong. My feathers an illustrious black. Then I heard the train whistle blow. Time to go. Crap, I ended up taking a fucking train that apparently had mechanical issues and a conductor with a crippling case of ADHD. I bailed to find my own way. Looking back at where I’d just traveled and what was before me… The choice was obvious.

I traveled through some questionable neighborhoods. I even took a chance a few times camping just off the tracks where the hoots of the resident owl, awkwardly complimented by the distant banjo jamboree of the yokels, lulled me to a heavy sleep. And after lumbering along the tracks for however many eons I’ve been traveling, with what little wisdom I’ve acquired, I feel I’ve finally arrived at the right depot…

As you may or may not be aware, I have made it my life’s work to decipher the true lessons behind the historical circumstances surrounding one of the most important and auspicious events in the history of mankind. I, of course, refer to the perilous journey that Dorothy Gail suffered for us all. Her travails through the yet-unexplained portal into which she was hurled these many years ago, should still give us pause in consideration of life as we know it.Many pundits have attempted to explain not only the event, but the true meaning behind it over the past few decades, but few if any have spent more time and effort than I in these pursuits. So it is with an incredible sadness that I feel I must address the unthinkable slander that some have seen fit to sling at this seminal adventure in our history. Those that do not believe that the event took place as described, fly in the face of the validity of mountains of evidence proving these Holy events to be factual accounts. It is unthinkable to most, I know. To doubt our most cherished lessons in life. But as the Great Oz himself(Praise Be His Name)implored: “Oh ye of little faith”. For that is what, I feel, is behind this recent onslaught of defamation. Lack of faith. Faith in The Great Oz himself; faith in Dorothy…and yes, even Toto too. It breaks the heart. It shakes the very foundation of our conviction toward magic itself.I understand that to even acknowledge this incredulity on the part of those that cast doubt upon our connection to the spiritual and mystical land of Oz, is tantamount to blasphemy itself. That which the Tin Man so wisely warned us against. However, I cannot, by my silence allow this evil to go unchecked. This type of destructive recalcitrance must be exposed for what it is. Evil spawned of the Wicked Witch of the North herself. You know of her evil plots. You that have been taught in the ways of Oz are all too familiar with her machinations. As our leaders that so wisely affirmed in the Kansas II reform of the Church of Oz, we now understand that the Dark Sister was not killed in the sense that we understand death, and lives on in a zombie-like presence to tempt we believers. She still wields her balls of fire and jitterbugs…we all know this. And yet, I say, even this recent reluctance to accept the very sacred word of our Saviouress Dorothy(PBHN)…is nothing more than this sorceress’ subtle and evil meddling. The greatest trick that she ever performed was making some believe that she died a watery death.

Doubt that The Cowardly Lion led the world toward the path of courage.

Doubt that The Scarecrow eschewed ignorance of Pythagoras.

Doubt that The Tin Man longed for and received a human heart.

Doubt that our Lordess Dorothy traveled that perilous yellow road for all of us.

Doubt these principles my friends…and you doubt life itself. Doubt that these events actually happened as told in our Holy Book, and you have succumbed to the West’s baneful woes.

Friends…I mean ‘real’ friends… have recently been supportive of my leanings to close or change this site. “Start another blog, if you‘re tired of howdarei“, they say. After all, it is a pretty narrow focused niche that I have carved out for myself here. And as I said…I am leaning. Listing to one side. Toward widening my commentary to include things other than tribalshenanigans. I mean, after all, I am a schooled and experienced writer…competent or not. I can place one word after another. And a few without the need to hear constant condemnation of cultish jewish dominance, might read me. A few. Maybe that should be enough now. Since I have written a gazillion words here and published a book toward that effort. Maybe. Or I could be lost in the mix of a million other ‘bloggers’ that are convinced they have found some righteous path and feel fulfilled in pointing it out to you by their use of clever prose. Again…maybe.Then there are my readers. The ones that come here regularly for…hell, I dunno why. Perhaps they think I have some answers. They might think that I agree with them on issues concerning the jewish among us. Support. A laugh or two. You name it. They come. Thousands. That amazes me in a way.Those regular visitors here will have noticed that my essays are coming fewer and further between lately. I would tell you that I have been busy, but that would be a lie. I would tell you that I have run outof things to say, but that too would be a prevarication. I could tell you that I am frustrated with this site and how it is being grouped with other sites and that would be closer to the truth.

As you know(especially if you have such a site yourself), the general reading public is not wary of letting you know how they feel about your work. Good, bad or in-between…they will tell you and they will reveal themselves in so doing. I have published and debated the more stable of those that oppose my efforts. I have had online scuffles with purveyors of other sites that disagree with my opinions. I have enjoyed the camaraderie of like-minded individuals that applaud what I write, telling me that I have put into words something they have always felt but never voiced. Those are the precious few. It is vanity on my part to acknowledge their kudos…but vanity can be a driving force.

But they are not the ‘thousands‘. The majority pick and choose. Hear what they want.I have known ‘rednecks’. Everyplace on earth has them. It is just we amerikans that have named them that. The bigoted. The narrow-minded. The fearful. The stupid. They are to be found everywhere. Too many find their way here, and to the sites that I am grouped with. “The antisemitic sites”. I know. I chose this path. I chose it to define rational ‘antisemitism’. To delineate between above mentioned idiots and intelligent well-meaning examination of over-represented jewish power in the West. Tough thing to do. The tribe fights me. The idiots fight me. I didn’t allow for two battles. My message is getting lost in the fray. Few wanted to hear it in the first place…fewer remain now.I dodge the ‘patriots’ and the ‘white-ists’ with this post and that. But they won‘t have it any other way. If I see the domination of yiddish control, I must want to save the union…or decrease immigration…or fight for second ammendment rights…or remind everyone of the teachings of this messiah or that one…or preserve a country that never was. Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck about any of those things. But don’t tell anyone.It seems there is no place for my political platform….no matter how common-sense based I think it is. Go figure. Good thing I never ran for any office.But I consider the source when I assess most of my readers. I too was raised in a all-white suburb of a country run by white old men that fought just(sic) wars for a subset of greedier white(jewish)men. This had an effect on me to be sure. It seems a different effect though. I take little pleasure in remembering those dream-like times. It seems most out here in anti-judaic land were mesmerized by them. Now they are incensed that they cannot return. Hi ho. I‘m through trying to point these things out to them. I have had my say about that trickery. You figure it out for yourselves. Or don’t.

So ‘howdarei’ will continue. But with a new direction. I might even change my masthead. Rather than be entirely ‘anti-jewish’, it will be more anti-everything. I will group the ‘white-ists’, the ‘patriots’, and the religious in a kind of “me versus them” narrative, which I have learned through this blog is the battle I should be fighting at this point.

I tire of trying to make the stupid think for themselves. Can’t be done. For the rest…hang on. This could be a pretty wild ride.